


Firsts

by katkrap



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: First Time, M/M, Superhusbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-29
Updated: 2012-05-29
Packaged: 2017-11-06 06:20:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/415718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katkrap/pseuds/katkrap
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Tony have been dating for a while, and Tony has been good about not pushing the issue, but Steve finally addresses some of his questions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Firsts

**Author's Note:**

> Drabble fic requested by an anon on my tumblr that turned into a Twelve-Page Piece. Figured I could just post it separate until 'Serious Trust' catches up to it!! Enjoy and consider it an apology for the long update wait in "ST"!!!

“No, seriously _, what? **”**_

“I’m not going to want to do it if you keep making fun of me, Tony.”

“I’m not making fun of you, I’m just…”  Tony turned from the computer screen.  “Just… like, _really_?  You’ve never…?”

Steve sighed, shaking his head and rolling his eyes at the ceiling.  “Well… not all of us had men and women clamoring to sleep with us our whole lives.”

“Oh yeah, I forget that sometimes,” Tony muttered, gnawing at his thumbnail.  At the look on Steve’s face, he chuckled.  “I’m _kidding_ Steve.  Seriously, it’s not a big deal—”

“But it _is_ a big deal,” Steve argued.  He swallowed.  “Tony, i… it’s my _first_ time.  You don’t really get more than one chance at it.”

Tony cast him a smile.  “Then I better not mess it up.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I,” Tony muttered, back to his computations.  “I-I mean, you think this isn’t something I’ve had to stress about?  I mean, if I make one wrong move, if I mess up somehow, you…”  His words trailed off as he began punching in numbers.

Steve frowned.  “What?”

Tony didn’t respond.

“Tony?”

“You might leave and not come back, okay?  There, I said it.”

Steve blinked.  After a moment, he began to laugh.  “Y… you’re worried about me leaving?   Seriously?”

“It’s no laughing matter, Cap.”

Steve kept laughing.  “What, has that actually happened?  Y-you, I don’t know, made love to someone and they just, what?  Ran out of the place screaming and never came back?”

“Hey,” Tony said, turning in his chair.  “Sexual compatibility has a lot to do with a relationship.  Got to test drive the car before you sign the lease, you know what I’m saying?”

“There’s a lot more to a car than whether or not you enjoy driving it,” Steve said with a smirk, then added, “there’s reliability and longevity—”

“The color of their eyes and what TV shows they want to watch,” Tony said, taking on a flowery tone, “which, by the way, suck—your soap operas are filling up my Tivo.”

“They’re _human dramas_ , Tony.”

“Period soap operas.”

“ _Downtown Abbey is not a soap opera!_   It…” Steve held up both hands.  “Okay, y’know what, we’re not having this discussion, okay, the point is, it’s _not_ just about whether or not you like driving the car.  Or did you forget that, too, Mr. Billionaire-Genius-Playboy-Philanthropist?”

“Oh, that’s _cute_ , Rogers,” Tony chuckled as he added the numbers on the screen to the remaining variables.  “Keep playing that way and you’re _really_ never getting laid.”

Steve smiled, but said nothing, just went back to his book.  A few minutes passed in silence while Steve tried to focus on reading.  When he started the same page for a third time and still, nothing was sinking in, his folded the book down on his lap.  “Do you really mean that?” Steve asked.

Tony didn’t look up from the computer.  “Mean what, hun?”

“What you said a few minutes ago,” Steve said, watching Tony fiddle.  “H-how if people don’t have good… _intimacy_ , they leave each other.”

“Well, yeah.  I mean, sometimes you have a night, and it’s weird and you’re drunk and then the next morning, you look at each other and…”  Tony chuckled and shook his head.  “Happened to me more times than I can count.”

Steve looked at the cover of his book, breathed a quiet, “oh…”  He picked up the book, staring at the pages.  He knew full well he wasn’t understanding a word of text, but it was better than the alternative; staring at Tony’s back, wide-eyed and looking like a kicked puppy.

The silence went on for a while before Tony turned, setting down the tablet with his notes on the table and turning off the computer screen.  “Hey… you okay?”

Steve didn’t look up from his book, giving a small nod.  “Y-yeah.  Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Book’s upside down.”

Steve barely glanced up at Tony, then back at his book.  After a moment, he turned it over and went back to pretending to read.

Tony rubbed the back of his neck.  “Steve, you’re not freaking out because of what I said, right?”

“What you said about what?”

“You know _what_ about _what_ ,” Tony said as he stood, crossing over to the couch where Steve was sitting.  “Hey…” He sat on the back of the couch nearest to Steve, pushed the blonde hair from the other man’s eyes and eased his face to look up at him.  “Steve, talk to me.  What’s wrong?”

Steve shrugged.  “Nothing’s wrong, I just—”

“Okay, yeah, I’m gonna call bullshit on this one,” Tony said, grabbing Steve’s book and turning it down on the seat.  “So, considering that I’ve got two hours for those algorithms to process, let’s talk.”  When Steve said nothing, Tony sighed.  “Okay.  I’ll start.  You seem like you’re scared of sex.”

Steve rolled his eyes.  “I’m not… scared of sex, I’m just…”  He dropped his chin to his chest and shrugged.

“What?” Tony asked.  “Steve, come on, just talk to me.”

Steve looked up again with a sigh.  “Look… Tony, you… you’ve had…. tons of experience.”

Tony snorted.  “Uh, thanks I guess.”

“More than anyone else I know.”

“Again, thank you.”

Steve smirked.  “More than most people have in a single lifetime without becoming violently ill—”

“Okay, yeah, I was loose and easy, _haha_ , laugh at my expense, I get it, moving on.”

Steve’s smile faded again and he stared down at his hands, folded together in his lap.  “Look, I’ve tried to figure this out, this…”  He glanced up at Tony and broke out into a violent blush.  He looked back at his lap and shrugged.  “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“And…”  He did an awkward half-shrug, half-wince and looked back up at Tony.  “I-I just… I’m…. not going to be any good, Tony.  I-I’m not.  I’m just not.”

Tony tried not to smile, ended up pressing his lips together and fighting back a laugh.  “Steve… no one’s good their first time.  Okay?   _No one._ ”  At the look of fear on Steve’s face, Tony began to laugh.  “Oh God, no!  Steve, Steve, it’s okay, I’m not… no, I-I’m not saying you’re going to suck in b—well, maybe, but not like...”  He shook the thought out of his head and tried to keep serious.  “Look, what I’m trying to say is that it’s a _process_ , okay?  It’s a learning experience, and it’s going to take some time.  And that’s not just on you, Cap, okay?  I’ll have some learning to do, too.”

Steve raised an eyebrow.  “Okay, you don’t have to _patronize_ me, Tony, it’s not helpful, it’s just insul—”

“Not a lie,” Tony said, shaking his head.  “ _Really_ not a lie.  Just because it works on one person doesn’t mean it works on the other, okay?  I mean, if I came at this the same way I would…”  Tony dug for a name, and the one that came out against all odds was, “Pepper, for example.”  _Damn it, why’d he just compare Steve to his ex?  Damn it to hell._   “It’s a totally different experience.”

Steve let out an irritated chuckle.  “See, and th… that’s the _other_ thing I’m not getting.”

“Oh, here we go,” Tony laughed.  “The big questions, right?”

“Tony, I-I said don’t _patronize_ me, okay?” Steve said.  “I’m trying to be serious.”

“And I’m trying to take you seriously, _seriously_ ,” Tony said.  He couldn’t help but smirk.  “And then I remember that you used to be a _chorus girl_.”

“Not funny,” Steve said, but he was smiling.

“Nope,” Tony beamed.  “Not funny, anyone with legs that killer is far from hilarious.”

“ _Stop_ ,” Steve said, holding up a finger, still smiling.  He thought a moment, then murmured.  “Okay, so… look, I get it.  I get how it works… o-or how it’s supposed to work.  When it’s a _woman_.  But a man with a man, it…”  He was gesturing with his hands, face remarkably pink, and seeming to have a very difficult time figuring out how to voice his thoughts.

Tony chuckled.  “Yeah, I figured we’d have to have this talk.”

“I get the basics, I think, just—”

“Yeah, I really don’t think you do—”

“—wh, no!  Tony, I… that is, I’m just—”

“—Steve, it’s okay, the first step to any problem is admitting you need h—”

“ _Clint showed me some videos!”_

The comment came out of the blue, Steve’s words still echoing in the bedroom.  Both men were staring at each other, wide-eyed in disbelief; Tony still processing Steve’s words, Steve wanting to kill himself for having said it aloud.

Tony blinked, several times, then muttered, “so, by videos, you mean… _video_ -videos, like…”

Steve sighed.  “Like…”  He whispered the next word.  “ _Pornography_ , yes.”

Tony had to fight back a smile.  “Well, _one_ ,” he said, holding up a finger, “having scrubbed his internet history from the tower’s wifi, I can honestly say he’s got _no taste_ in what he’s showing you.  Two, I owe Natasha an apology.  And three, that’s _advanced class_ material, okay?  That’s on the _back burner_ until I’ve got you comfortable with the basics.”

Steve made a face.  “I thought kissing was the basics.”

“And you’ve been an _awesome_ student,” Tony said, smirking.  “Top marks all around.  I’ve got high expectations.”  At the minor expression of panic, Tony laughed, putting a hand on Steve’s shoulder.  “Oh Steve, holy crap just stop!” he laughed.  “Seriously, you keep making that puppy face I’m going to make you leave.  You’re going to give me diabetes.  Not even kidding.”  When the expression turned to concern, Tony added, “kidding!  That’s a joke, Steve!  Just a joke!"

Steve rolled his eyes, shaking his head before looking back at the ground.  “Kissing is… easy.  The…”   He seemed to debate what to ‘call it,’ then settled for, “other stuff?  I just… I-I don’t know that I’m going to be any good at that.”The…”   He seemed to debate what to ‘call it,’ then settled for, “other stuff?  I just… I-I don’t know that I’m going to be any good at that.”

Tony stared at Steve a long moment, smiling.  He stood, holding out a hand.  “C’mere.”

Steve just stared up at Tony with wide blue eyes.  “What?”

“Just…”  Tony shook his hand about.  “Come on, humor me.”

Steve’s throat worked a moment and he reached out to put his hand in Tony’s.  Tony led him across the room, hand in hand, toward the bed.  Steve hesitated, Tony nearly dragging him until they were sitting on the foot of the bed, hand in hand.  “Tony,” he murmured as he turned to face him.  “What are we doing?”

“Only whatever you want to do,” Tony said.  For the first time Steve could remember since having met him, he seemed complete void of any flippancy, of any sarcasm or double-tone.  He was utterly sincere.  He held Steve’s hands, murmured, “if you want to stop, you tell me stop.  If you want to keep going, well…”  Tony smirked.  “You just… tell me what you want.  Got it, Cap?”

“Tony,” Steve mumbled, going red again.  “This is—”  He was cut off when Tony’s lips pressed to his.  The tension in his shoulders shuddered loose and the frown that was creasing his brow smoothed out.    It always took him by surprised, how easy it was to get lost in this. In _Tony_.  It always seemed so complicated in his mind, and then Tony would just come, take his hands and… suddenly it didn’t matter what anyone else thought or said.

Steve’s breath caught as a hand brushed the warm skin his back, slipping up past the hem of his shirt.  In the same moment, Tony pulled back, brown eyes gone wide.  “You okay?”

Steve nodded, a single nod, then several frantic nods.  “Y-yeah.”

Tony swallowed, mouth gone dry and slid his hand around to Steve’s chest, still teasing beneath the fabric of his shirt.  “This okay?”

Steve nodded, breath shallow and rapid.

Tony’s was the same, his skin gone feverish just from _touching_ Steve.  They’d touched before, but not like this.  Not with _this_ sort of intention.  Steve had insisted on ‘courting him,’ taking it slow, waiting until they were ready.

Tony had been feeling set to burst from that first night in Central Park.  It was taking all of his self control not to just pin the man to the bed and…

Before Tony could slid his hand up any further up Steve’s shirt, Steve moved away.  His hands were shaking as he began frantically unbuttoning the patterned shirt.  Tony chuckled.  “Uh, Steve—?”

“I-I’m wearing too many clothes,” he stammered, strugging with the buttons and shrugging it off.  He tossed it on the floor, followed shortly by his undershirt, then looked at the two items lying on the floor.  He swallowed, began to stand.  “A-and now I’m making a mess of—”

“Don’t you _dare_ leave me here,” Tony laughed, catching Steve by the hand and tugging him back down to the bed.  “Here’s a word to add to your sexual dictionary, Cap.  _Cockblock_.  Here, I’ll use it in a sentence for you.  Uh… ‘ _Steve_ cockblocked _Tony_ when he decided to clean the room rather than lie in bed with his boyfrien—’”

“I know what a… _what one of those_ is, Tony.”

“God, you’re so _proper_.  Can’t you just say ‘ _cock’_ like a normal person?”

“Tony.”

“ _Cock_.  See?  Cock.  Or penis.  _Penis_.  Well, penis is scientific, doesn’t really count as a dirty w—”

Tony thoughts were cut off quite suddenly by Steve Roger’s mouth.  The kiss was deep and warm and gentle and guiding him down until they were both lying on the bed, legs tangling together as Tony rolled his hips up to touch Steve’s.  Tony made a small noise of malcontent when Steve pulled away.

“Remember when we talked the other day?” Steve said.

“Mm?” Tony mumbled, struggling to shake off the haze.

“About how you _talk_ too much when you get _nervous_?”

“What are you trying to say, Rogers?  That I’m nervous?  Because I have to say, right now? I am—?”

And with that, Steve’s mouth was back on his, kissing him hard.  Tony smirked, running both hands through Steve’s hair and sending it all askew.  It was one of the few things he’d learned drove Steve absolutely batty.  Sure enough the fumble of lips and the shudder of Steve’s shoulders was enough to tell Tony he’d hit his mark.  Tony’s breath caught in his throat.  _Damn_.  Steve’s fingers had teased up under his shirt, skirted along the waistband of his pants, but never quite dared to slide onto his skin.  Tony shifted, arched his body so that Steve’s hand flared out on flat of his stomach.

They both let out a soft breath.

It was Steve’s turn to fumble for words.  “I-Is this okay, am I doing it right, is it—?”

“Now who’s nervous,” Tony chuckled, already breathless.  Steve’s fingers shuddered against his skin and Tony took a sharp breath.  “Goddamn, you were right.”

“Too many clothes?”

“Too many clothes.”

“Take off the clothes?”

“Yup, yes, take off _all_ the clothes, now, I want there to be a deficit of clothes in this room within the next ten seconds or—Steve, _so help me_ if you try to fold those, just…”  Tony stopped, lying on the bed in nothing but a pair of argyle dress socks.  He frowned at Steve who looked rather like he’d just blown a fuse.  “Um… you okay?”

Steve blinked and stared very pointedly at the comforter.  “Fine, just…”  He shrugged and dared a glance at Tony, his entire face gone crimson.  “This is… I-I mean, it’s… I’ve never… _seen_ you like this before.”

Tony smirked.  “Your loss.  Well, your gain now, I suppose.”  He tugged off the dress socks and tossed them across the room in the opposite direction of where his pants had landed, much to Steve’s rather _distracted_ dismay.  He looked back at Steve and smirked.  “What, Cap, you too good to debrief?”  He lay back on the bed.  “Or you just distracted by the view?”

Steve turned an even darker shade of red and fumbled for his belt.  He could barely manage to get the thing off, let alone his pants.  Tony finally chuckled, hooking his fingers into the belt-loops of Steve’s pants and pulled him down to the bed.  “C’mere.”

“Tony…”

“Here, just let me—”

“I can undress _myself_ , Tony.”

“Yeah, well,” Tony asked, positioning himself at the bottom of the bed between Steve’s legs as he began unfastening the belt buckle and buttons, “as flattering as it is that I put Captain America into enough of a tizzy that he can’t even undress himself, I’m impatient as hell, and…”  Tony pulled of Steve’s pants in as little time as possible, undergarments and all, and flung them over his shoulder in a heap.

It was his turn to go red. 

“God… _damn_.”  Steve moved to cover himself but Tony was quicker.  He caught Steve’s hands gently by the wrists and held them away to keep them from obstructing his view.

Steve’s blush was travelling the length of his neck, spattering across his chest as his heart pounded in his throat.  “T-Tony?”

“Yeah?”

Steve swallowed, watching his lover’s face with anxious anticipation.  When he couldn’t stand it any longer, he breathed, “well, say something…”

Tony nodded sagely.  “Okay, yeah, um…”  He smirked, holding back a laugh, “God bless America.” 

Steve’s blush only darkened and he tugged his hands away to cover himself.  “ _Tony…”_

“No, really, I mean…”  He shook his head, letting out a long breath through his teeth.  “Now I have to ask,” Tony said, looking up at Steve and pointing downward, “is this pre or post op Steve I’m looking at here, because I’ve got to say, if there is such a thing as perfection, _clearly_ this should be at the top of the nominee list for—”

Steve pulled his hands loose, covering himself.  “ _Tony_.”

“Wh—oh, don’t tell me you aren’t aware that _that,”_ he said, trying to pulled Steve’s hands away from his crotch, “is a thing of beauty.”

“It is _not_ beautiful.”

“It is _gorgeous_.”

“We are _not_ having this conversation about my… _genitals_.”

“Just say cock.”

“No.”

“Just once, just say it for me.  Cock.”

“ _Tony_.”

“You’re acting like a ninety-year-old man again.”

“ _Just—!_ ”  Steve held up a finger to Tony’s lips, flustered but smiling.  “Stop, okay, alright?  Telling me I’m a ninety-year-old virgin for the eightieth time isn’t going to make me feel more comfortable, okay?”

“Is telling you that you have a beautiful penis going to make you more comfortable, because I’ve got to say, as far as penises go it—”

Steve was laughing.  “Get down here, right now.”

“Yessir.”

Tony flopped down on the bed beside Steve, propping his head up on his hand and smirking.  “You come here often?”  He chuckled.  “Heh.  Not yet but you will.  _Pun_.”  He waited for a reaction, anything from Steve, but nothing came.  He stared at Steve a long moment in silence, his throat working.  “Steve?”

Steve said nothing, eyes gone to follow the shape of his hip, focusing as though he was memorizing every inch of him.  It was Tony’s turn to feel bashful.  “Uh, Steve?”

“Some of your chest hair is white.”

Tony sighed.  “Mm, yeah.  Maybe you didn’t notice, but this body of mine?  It might be a newer model than yours, but it’s got more mileage than—”

“I think it’s cute,” Steve smirked, looking up at him.

Tony chuckled.  “Oh, thank God!  Captain America thinks my chest hair is adorable.”

“And the freckle by your belly button,” Steve said, staring at it as he pressed a finger against it.

Tony’s breathing went shallow.  “Y-yeah?”

“And your hips,” Steve said, sliding his hand from the freckle to cup Tony’s hip bone.  “I… y-you have… nice hips, I…”  He barely glanced up at Tony, almost as if asking permission.  Then, very slowly, he leaned forward until his lips pressed petal-soft against Tony’s hip.

Tony’s eyes fluttered as he became aware of the fact that he’d forgotten how to breathe.  Steve must have sensed this because his eyes opened and his mouth left Tony’s skin.  “Are you okay?”

Tony nodded, almost frantic.  “Y-yeah.  Yeah, better than okay, just…”

Steve smirked and his mouth went back to Tony’s skin kissing around the curve of his hips, running his lips down the shallow ‘v’ of his muscles.

Tony let out a soft breath, turned to lie flat on his back as Steve’s nose traced the soft line of dark hair up to his navel, kissed at the single freckle.  His mouth kept opening to speak, only to let out small involuntary noises instead.  He lay there, one hand tangled in Steve’s hair, the other gripping at a lone pillow as he tried to keep his breathing level.

“Wow,” Steve mumbled against Tony’s skin.

Tony’s eyes fluttered open.  “Wh-what?”

“Nothing, I’ve just…”  He smirked.  “I’ve managed to turn Tony Stark speechless.”

Tony’s head dropped back against the bedding with a soft sigh.  “I-I’m sure everyone will be… _very_ pr—”  Tony’s back arched against his will and he swore aloud.  A series of high-pitched whimpers crawled out of his mouth, and he could have sworn he twisted something.  Then, as quickly as it had come, it was gone, leaving his shaking and frantic.  He looked down at Steve who was staring up at him with equally wide eyes.  “Wh… what the _hell_?” Tony sputtered.

“I’m sorry,” Steve murmured, “I-I saw it on the movie and—”

“Was that your _mouth_?”

Steve looked shame-faced and couldn’t hold Tony’s gaze for more than a few minutes.  “It… y-yeah, is… is that not—?”

Tony’s eyes were wide.  “N-no!  I-it… _fantastic_ , that’s…”  He shuddered, taking a moment to gather his thoughts and successfully navigate them from his head to his mouth.  What he wanted to say was something to the effect of, _“Okay, so… super soldier, protector of the American-way, and best virgin in the history of ever?  What in the hell did they inject you with, Rogers?”_  What came out instead was, “just… not stop...”  Awesome.  He couldn’t even grammar anymore.

God damn it.  Steve Rogers was turning him back into a virgin.

And just like that, any ability to form thoughts in a coherent structure was gone.  Steve’s mouth was on him again, warm and wet and curling his toes so hard it hurt his calves.  It wasn’t perfect.  He was awkward, almost frightened and concerned by every sound that came unwillingly out of Tony’s body.  Tony encouraged him with murmurs and yeses and sometimes just the soft whisper of his lover’s name.  Mostly Steve just kissed him, too shy to take Tony’s head in his mouth again.  It went on for a few minutes, the tentative foreplay and experimental touching.  The whole while Tony just stroked Steve’s hair and watched him wonder at his body.

Steve lifted himself up to move to lie side-by-side with Tony.  Tony stared, confused by what, exactly, was happening, and still too lost in the moment to actually form words.

Steve saw his concern and caught Tony’s mouth with his, kissed him long and deep.  The whole while, his hand never left Tony’s length.  When he pulled away, he whispered, “I-I want to _see_ you.”

Tony nodded.  “Y-yeah,” he murmured.  “Yeah, you, too.”

Steve’s blush had turned to a fine sheen of sweat on his face as he nodded.  His hand began to move faster, Tony gasping, arching into his touch as Steve kissed all over his neck, his face, his mouth.  Tony whimpered, writhed on the bed sheets only held down by Steve’s touch and constant whispers of his name.  Every time the sound became frantic, desperate, Steve would just stroke Tony’s face, kiss him softly, whisper how much he loved him and how much he wanted this.

It was almost too much for Tony to take in at once.  So he just lay there, letting Steve complicate him in every way possible, the whole while just staring at him with those massive blue eyes, asking if everything was alright.  Tony could only nod and cling to him, worried that if he let go, he’d be lost to sensation alone.  This wasn’t just _sex_ anymore.  It had gone past that.  Past pleasure, past lust, past desire.  Whatever this was, it wasn’t about _him_ or _Steve_ or _anything_ … it was about _them_.  Both of them.  It was literally becoming one, and Tony could have thought up a billion better metaphors that didn’t make him sound like a dewy-eyed teenage girl, but he couldn’t even form coherent thoughts anymore.

The pleasure began to twist, fold in on itself and gather.  _Complicate_.  Tony gasped against Steve’s lips.  There was a moment, a single moment where he had control, where he would have been able to tell Steve exactly how he felt, and what he was doing to him, and how much he loved him, and… that moment was gone.

His body was no longer his.  It was expanding and contracting all at once, sound leaving his body in a single, struggled gasp of Steve’s name.  He tensed and twisted and writhed.  It was like watching himself from outside his body, watching Steve kiss the tension out of his face, still stroking him and whispering to him as he came back down.

His body shuddered from the feverchill of rapidly cooling sweat and he blinked his eyes open to see Steve, still lying beside him, smiling and holding him.  He kissed him, soft and brief, then pulled away.  “You okay?” he whispered.

Tony gave a nervous chuckle.  “Y-yeah.  _God_ yes, I…”  He stared at Steve, trying to find the words to express everything he’d just felt, everything it was and that it meant to him and what came out instead was, “ _fuck_ , I can’t one-up that.”

Steve laughed, deep and full.  “Oh.  Well, I guess I’m… flattered?”

“God damn right you better be flattered,” Tony murmured, starting to come back to himself.  “Top marks, all across the board.”

“Okay, now you’re just teasing.”

“I’m serious!  I mean, you were scared t—what the hell, Steve?  You’re a fucking _natural_!”  He chuckled in spite of himself and shook his head.  “We are never leaving this bedroom.”

Steve snorted.  “Uh… I don’t think that’s the best idea.”

“Really?  Really, because, ah, you haven’t even gotten your end of this yet.”

Steve went red.  “I-I don’t… I-I mean, this was enough for…”  He shook his head.  “I mean you don’t have t—”

“Son,” Tony chuckled, holding up a hand.  “ _Just don’t.”_ He smirked at the look Steve was giving him and nodded.  “Here, just… give me a second to get my breath, and… I’ll figure something out that will rock the stars off your spangled socks, okay?”  He glanced down.  “That and you should probably wash your hands.”

Steve looked down at his hand, Tony’s seed starting to cool on his skin.  He considered it a moment, until Tony snapped, “Don’t you _dare_.  You put that anywhere near your mouth and I’ll make you use a whole bottle of Listerine before I kiss you again, got it?”  He reached around and gave Steve’s rear a sharp swat.  “Now go clean up.  Be back in ten.”

“Ten?” Steve chuckled, rising from the bed.  “Really, i-it’s going to take you ten minutes to recover?  How old are you, again?”

“Hey, Captain Smart-ass, it’s not about recovery,” Tony snapped.  “I’m just devising a battle strategy, okay?  Now, I’m serious.  Go wash your hands.”


End file.
